Stitches
by Br33zy
Summary: We pretend to be something we aren't, like a stitched smile. But even then, seams loosen.


**Stitches**

She had one of those freaky little smiles like the ones stitched on a doll's mouth. Her eyes were dull sapphires, shaped like cat's eye marbles embedded in slanted eyelids. Her face was smooth and pale-while. Her arms laid limp and lifeless at her sides, and her legs dangled from the chair she sat upon. Her head was bowed down, her chin resting on her chest, causing strands of wispy brown hair to droop in front of her face.

Basically, she was a lifeless little wench. Nevertheless though, her parents paid me to help her and help her I would.

"Now," I said slowly, tapping a pen on the circular glass tabletop, "your parents say that your name is Kali, right?"

She did not answer but instead continued to stare at her shoes through blank eyes. I heard her gurgle from the back of her throat, and I figured this was her way of saying yes.

I've been a child psychologist for about eight years now, and I've had my share of unique children. Some were very angry. Some lied to hide the truth. Some I was ready to strangle by the end of the day. But at least these children spoke, unlike her who had not uttered an intelligible word besides that gurgle in the past three weeks that I had her as a patient. She was a puzzle that I couldn't figure out.

"And how old are you again?" I asked in attempt to start conversation.

Slowly, her limp limbs came to life and her frail fingers unraveled themselves from clenched fists. She held up ten bent fingers that looked like if you bent them straight, you'd snap them in half. I nodded at this, and the girl dropped her arms, letting them flop around, her smile still plastered on her face.

This is how it goes everyday. Parents drop her off, kid sits at table, staring at her shoes. I ask her what her name and age is, she barely responds, and then we sit in silence for the next forty-five minutes until her parents come back to pick her up. Not today though. I refused to not get anything accomplished once again.

"Kali, is there anything you want to talk about?" This is another question I've asked her countless times yet still remained unanswered.

She only smiled and swung her legs forward, gripping the sides of her chair, refusing to answer the simple question. Latios, give me patience immediately for this Kali.

"Please, Kali," I begged. "Your parents are worried sick about you and so am I. What happened that night? What happened the night you got your first Pokémon from Professor Birch?"

Again, she refused to speak but instead chose to gurgle through closed, chapped and cracked lips. She was a stubborn one, but I could make anyone crack if I put enough pressure on him or her.

Pushing up the thin, square frames that rested on the bridge of my nose, I re-read all the papers and documents that both Kali's mom and I collected the past few weeks while observing her actions. It seemed that day after day, Kali seemed to sit on her bed and stare out the window - much like she was doing now - ever since that one fateful night Professor Birch gave her a Pokémon. It was then when Kali lost all traces of emotion.

I didn't understand why she was so afraid of Pokémon that it scared her to an emotionless, monotonous state. Her mother told me that she, since her father is a Pokémon Breeder, is used to being around Pokémon, especially the rookie types, so she shouldn't have any problem with her own.

I turned the page and skimmed another document. This one said that Kali was a mischevious child that always got into trouble. She was also rather spoiled too which wasn't surprising since she was dressed in a fine, red satin dress adorned with white lace. A pair of polished Mary-Janes were slipped onto her feet, shoes that usually prim and proper girls wore. I found it rather odd that her parents made her dress like this, especially at her ripe, old age of ten. Mostly five year-olds wore this type of clothing, but by the age of ten, girls usually wore ratty old t-shirts and jeans with holes in them.

I hid my frown and took off my glasses, cleaning the lens with my shirt. I placed them back on and gazed outside the window, peering at the outside world. The sun was eyeing down upon the little town of Petalburg with its golden gaze, its fingers gently warming the sandy ground. Clouds dotted the sky in small, little puffs, and a gentle breeze started up, gusting through the open window, kicking up the white satin curtains, and drying the sweat upon my forehead. The twitter of Taillows rang, and the laughter of children echoed throughout the empty room of my office. The delicate, sweet smell of long grass floated into the room, and I whiffed it in, letting out a sigh soon afterward.

"Nice day isn't it?"

From the corner of my eye, I saw Kali shift as a response, lifting her head from off her chest to gaze outside the window. She nodded, her same smile still abroad her face, the sunlight reflecting off the table and into her sapphire blue eyes.

"Do you like days like these, Kali?"

Another nod answered this.

"Yeah, so do I. I love going and taking walks with my Pokémon. Don't you?"

That got her attention. She snapped her head away from the window and glared at me, an awkward sight as she still continued to smile, clearly angered that I mentioned Pokémon. Good, we're finally getting somewhere.

The hatred in her eyes continued to glow, and soon, her dull eyes were filled with fire, the first sign of emotion from the past three weeks. Mentally jotting this down in my mind, I continue mentioning Pokémon.

"Yes. My Pokémon love taking walks with me as well. Wouldn't you love to do the same with your Pokémon?"

She shook her head furiously, her hair flying everywhere, whipping her in the face. My was she angered by the word Pokémon. The sudden reason of her hating them out of the blue just doesn't make any sense.

She crossed her arms as I began to shuffle through my papers again. Finding the certain journal article I wanted, I scanned it while continuing to glance at Kali. This journal was written by her mother about Kali going out to get her Pokémon. It was eight at night, and Kali was one of the selected few to get her Pokémon at night from Professor Birch. I suppose that Professor Birch was giving out nocturnal Pokémon and Kali signed up for that shift. She and her mother got in a fight earlier about what Pokémon she should get. Kali wanted a Poochyena, but her mother told her that it wasn't easy to train, especially if the Poochyena had a vicious type of nature. Kali refused to listen and instead gave out a temper tantrum until her mother gave up and let Kali get her way. But when Kali came back, she was different. Different from before anyway.

Placing the paper back on the table, my eyes bore into the fiery blue ones of Kali, trying to peer into her so ul, or perhaps try to snap her out of her angered state. This was to no avail and only made her more furious. I rested my elbows on the table and my chin on closed fists, continuing to try and read Kali like a book.

"You have a Pokémon don't you, Kali?

She frowned, snapped out of her trance, and furiously shook her head, denying that she held and controlled a creature within her possesion. That was always one of my pet peeves with children; they were always so selfish. They always want something they don't have, and when they finally get it, they don't want it anymore. Perhaps she didn't like what Pokémon she got, but that's not possible. After all, she got what she asked for - a Poochyena.

Speaking of which, I had said Pokémon in my possession. Her mother told me that perhaps I could unlock her new . . . "mood" by releasing her Pokémon. Perhaps seeing the creature that she longed for so dearly would help bring her back to her natural, or original, state.

Reaching inside my pocket, I pulled out a red and white sphere, causing the girl to growl from the back of her throat viciously. I ignored this though and pressed the white button on the ball, enlarging it from its small, marble-shape to the size of an Oran Berry. She continued to threaten me with a piercing glare and a loud rumble from the back of her throat, but to her horror, a shaggy, black and grey furred, crimson-eyed creature came out of the ball in flash of white light and silver sparkles. The creature shook and stretched himself from being cramped up in the ball as his soft, pink tongue poked its way between a gap in his sharp, white fangs. He barked happily, caught up in the excitement. His claws clicked on the glass table as he walked over, prodding my hand with his cold, wet nose, obviously wanting to be petted.

I obliged the Pokémon's wishes, scratching him on the head. "You know this Poochyena don't you, Kali? He would happen to be yours, correct?"

She only shuddered and pushed herself back in the chair, the chair's legs groaning in protest. Cowardly, she hopped onto her chair, hugging her legs tightly as if this would help protect her from the young hyena. The grin remained on her face despite the fact she was fearing for her life. I found this rather odd, mentally noting this in my head as well.

Continuing to pet the hyena, I asked Kali another question. "Didn't you want a Poochyena, Kali? What makes you fear him now?"

Again, she whimpered and scooted herself away from the table, fingernails digging into her skin.

"What happened that night when you got Poochyena? Did he bite you? Is that why you're so afraid of him? Did you get jumped at night? What caused you to become like this?"

The squeak of floorboards answered.

"Why do you constantly smile? This isn't a bad thing of course but it's also okay to be content or even frown sometimes. It is like you're trying to hide something, Kali. Are you hiding anything?"

Nothing but the laughter of children outside.

I became more determined and my questions came out more like demands. "Kail, why do you no longer speak? Why do you refuse to obey or answer anything? ANSWER ME, KALI!"

She quickly turned her head, wispy hair covering part of her face. Stubborn wench.

Sighing, I continue to pet Poochyena through gritted teeth, trying hard not to yell again. It was very unprofessional of me to yell at one of my patients, especially if one seemed to be in a traumatized state like she was. Good thing she could not speak or at least refuse to otherwise I would get myself in a whole bunch of trouble.

To cover this up though, I urged and pushed her Poochyena toward her in hopes of her former love for such creatures would reenkindle itself again. The Poochyena got the idea and began to trot toward his trainer, panting happily. The girl only shuddered and pushed herself back until the back of the chair met the white plaster walls. She sat on the edge, ready to run just in case, gripping the sides of the chair, whimpering through a stitched smile. The Poochyena only made his was closer toward Kali, and I couldn't help but grin at his attempts to get closer with his trainer.

Kali looked awfully frightened though as if she saw a ghost. Looking around quickly, head shifting left and right, she got up from her seat slowly and stepped backward toward the wall, pushing herself against it, perhaps hoping she would turn transparent and float away from her supposed danger. Her fingers gripped the top of the chair as the young hyena came closer, and slowly, she raised the wooden chair above her head, her eyes narrowing to form a glare. Like an animal trainer and a lion in the circus, Kali jabbed the legs of the chair toward the Poochyena, causing him to move back a bit in surprise though he still continued to move forward. I suppose Kali began to panic, for she threw the chair out of desperation, the chair almost colliding with the fragile body of the Bite Pokémon. Unfortunately, a leg of the chair thwacked the Poochyena right smack on the head before the chair crashed and broke against the glass table. The hyena let out a mighty roar of agony, causing Kali to scream shrilly to my puzzlement. She broke the seams, and out of her mouth came a wispy, silver smoke, kind of like pixie dust, that was quickly sucked out the window and floated away in a trail of dusty sparkles. She stepped foward a few steps, her arm outstretched as if trying to hold onto something, only to fall backward, hitting the floor hard.

I never knew that rookie Poochyenas were capable of using Roar, a move that scares off foes back whether wild or trained, but I suppose that it was yet another explanation of Pokémon that us humans did not understand. Perhaps new "moves" were learned when the Pokémon felt that the trainer could wield that elemental power. Perhaps Pokémon were able to use moves that they should not know when threatened. But I'm no Pokémon professor so why bother figuring it out?

The young Poochyena, who managed to calm down his beating heart, treaded over toward the limp body of Kali, licking his owner's face. He whimpered though and stepped back a bit, toenails clicking on the wooden floorboards, crimson eyes wide in startlement. His nose twitched a bit like his sensitive nose smelled something horrible, and his tail laid limp instead of the perky wag he had a few moments ago.

Surprised at this, I got up from my chair, walked over, and inspected the girl from where I stood. Her long, cobwebby brown hair was sprawled out all over the floorboards, her eyelids protecting her dull, gem-like eyes. Her mouth, which was formerly closed like it were stitched that way, was opened into the shape of a perfect "O." She was spread out in an eagle-spread position, arms and legs stretched out like she was making angels in the snow. I bent down, brushed the hair out of her face, and instantly, goosebumps traveled up and down my arm, pricking up my hairs. I raised an eyebrow, peering as her through the top of my glasses, awfully confused.

No wonder she looked so pale.

She was dead.


End file.
